i want to blame the xbi for my internet sloth




but i cant. im a responsible why would i blame someone else when i know im at fault for being a lazy bitch.

today is stephs birthday, shes 23.

happy birthday baby.

ive been calling everyone baby lately. its fun. its like calling frisco frisco. youre not really supposed to do it to anyone youre not fingering but what the hell.

when i read steph (left) 's blog i realize just how unmotivated i am. the girl works all night. parties when shes done. then lays out in the sun.

quite a life.

good luck with your pats tomorrow.

even though i hope they go down.

happy birthday baby

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knock at the door usually means one thing: a change in plans. snoop dog was on. old school was on. a girl who sorta looked like a younger gabrielle reece if you know who she is had just left behind something smoking in the ashtray and i had just picked it up to see what it was for the odor was seductively curious. i was just about to touch it when a little tap at the front door startled me.

this one looked like an older marisa tomei, but taller. i dont know if ive ever told you this but ive always liked tall girls.

her name was gretchen she lived across the street. little purse little socks tall shoes big hair. her dress sparkled from thousands of sparkley sparklies as she shivered next to my satellite dish.

its funny how sometimes you think a bad date is just that.

she was drunk. hot. sloppy. pale.

someone wrote in one of my posts this week that he didnt believe the story i was telling.

duh.

nothing

real tits

in here

totally shaved

is

pierced nips

true.

woke up this morning still on the couch with her.

got up

pissed

brushed my teeth

took my socks off

gave each of my feet a generous spray of desenex

put two clean white socks on

fixed up some scrambled eggs

stirred a griddle of bacon around

boiled some grits

toast popped up right when i had poured two glasses of apple juice.

turned on the tv

and i hadnt realized that bitch had knocked my dish out of alignment last night when she waited for me to answer the door.

she woke up next to a vase of fresh snapdragons rubbing her good eye and noticing me flipping through the tivo deleting the shows that had only recorded a black screen that said searching for satellite signal for a half hour.

and then i knew who was gonna get the slice of toast that

briefly

had fallen on the kitchen floor.

tiffany + chicha + how appealing

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this was an interesting week in blogging. the insta punditgot blogads, the busblog flowed bob moulds blog more hits than usa today's blog, and the new york times created their first blog.

the times dont call it a blog because they want to be all stuck up n shit, but sure enough they have joined the bandwagon so welcome aboard slackers. better late than never.

worked my ass off today and i was walking home from the subway and i thought about what it would be like to be a pro blogger. and all the way home i thought how it would probably suck cuz nobody would ever let you get away with calling the new york times or cbs or the president of the united states a fucking fuckhead and when all this is said and done, if you truly want to be a great writer

which i would hope a journalist would want to be

i would imagine that you would want to have a body of work to leave behind that people would be able to look at and say yeah and be impressed and want to tell their friends about

as opposed to a collection of middle of the road phil collins lyrics disguised as commentary and being presented as journalism.

i am a one hundred percent believer in Jesus Christ which means i believe we have one life and one death. why would i waste this short journey writing things in ways to please the lowest common denominator.

so many people worry about getting lots of hits and being more and more popular or making money or

forget it.

this blog lets me do everything i want.

yes my real job gets in the way from writing you but that might change

you know what a lot of guys do when they decide to quit the xbi?

they teach highschool.

this week also meant an end of 5ilver.net, after 4 years mindy has retired one of my favorite blogs

thankfully she started a new site: voxura

buzzmachine + wonkette + morland

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caption this, please

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lets talk a minute about teamwork. lets talk about gifted fucks. lets talk about how kickass Lick is about to reveal itself as being.

superbowl sunday my friends. during halftime. you will see writing like you havent seen before on tonypierce.com, you will see graphics and design that blow this shit away. and you will see a classy style that takes sex drugs and rock to a new level.

and if i were to give the game ball out to one person Before the game even started i would have to give it to ms. raspil iverson of salt lake city utah who stepped up to the plate called her shot and not only hit the scoreboard but knocked the damn thing over.

then ran around the bases backwards like my man jimmy piersall.

she kicked so much ass that it is hard for me to take any credit whatsoever in Lick but i suppose if it wasnt for my idea and my vision and the fact that i attracted all these great writers to talk about some of their deepest darkest secrets it wouldnta happened.

but thats almost like giving christopher columbus credit for discovering amerikkka.

none of these writers needed to be discovered. and ms iverson definitely didnt need to be discoverd and if she did i will lose her to some big time website before the probowl kicks off, and thats fine with me.

i think you kids will like what you see at halftime on lickmagazine.com

and the cool part is...

it's just the begining

prepare to see Lick updated once a week, prepare to see a daily updated group blog, prepare to see something that takes this medium to a new direction of revelation creativity and intrigue.

prepare to be impressed by the women of the web and their wonders.

ms. raspil iverson cheif director of style, lick magazine

mr. oswald undertone, president of hosting services, networking, and class

lick behind the scenes bloggy

papa jeffrey solomon, technical consultant, cheif sultan, diaper changer

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over the last few weeks karisa has been making a concerted effort to spend a little more time with me. that makes me happy. tonight we went drinking at the good luck bar, which is within walking distance from my hollywood bungalow and yet even though ive lived here for what 57 years i still havent frequented.

it was great.

reportedly the place is packed on the weekends but tonight it was about three quarters full when we arrived at 10 and about one quarter full when we had our last baileys at 1:15a.

the bar is dark, the jukebox played x and the clash and elvis costello. at one point someone put stairway to heaven on and the bartender walked over to it and turned it off and then on again so it'd go to a new song.
it was the only time we'd hear zeppelin but those few seconds were plenty as none of us needed to hear any more of that song tonight.

karisa and i talked about lots of little superficial things like television and rearing children and gays in pro sports, which of course led to me dissing her quarterback tom brady who will probably lead the new england pats to a superbowl victory on sunday despite the fact that he probably wouldnt give a cheerleader the time of day.

she said, what proof do you have that hes gay?

i said just look at him.

she said thats not enough evidence.

i was all, joe willie namath stood on the sidelines in a floor length white mink coat and he still didnt look or act gay and yet your boy cant not look like a fairy even when hes driving his team down the field with nothing left on the clock.

still she remained loyal and unmoved on my accusation. but whatever, shes a girl, shes forgiving when it comes to good looking winning quarterbacks who are poised to bring another ring to her home state.

soon we would reach agreement on a sad point. we're both so over 103.1 fm. we dont even listen to it any more.

the problem is, they dont change their songs up nearly enough.

its painfully obvious that they have bob marleys legend the clash's london calling and k-tels the best of grunge on heaviest rotation and i wont even get into the Spree, but after a while i know im gonna hear something off either Wild Gift or Check Your Head, which trust me, is never a bad thing, but theres a lot of rock to choose from, so why not keep choosing.

wheres zwan and king missile and celebrity skin and mr bungle and urge overkill and sugar and tom waits, victoria williams and motorhead and de la soul and digital underground? wheres nomeansno and house of large sizes and kinky and the boo-yaa tribe? theres a bottomless pit of quote unquote independent music that kroq wouldnt dare put on their airwaves that would sound just as good as the third ramones record in an hour, so why must they insist on singing that cover of mad world for the tenth time in the day?

bust with the jesus and mary chain for pete sake

and the pogues

and the minutemen and firehose and watt and the rentals.

remind the kids who jello biafra was and is, and what negativland did and how good teenage fanclub and nashville pussy sounded.

where the fuck is my motorhead

thats all i want to know

wheres my boy lemmy and dont you dare tell me that he's not independent.

we toasted and drank and kept getting more and soon we were done and soon it was over and it had gone so quickly but we were both responsible adults and before you know it my electric blanket was warmed and i had finished telling you all that needed to be said.

other than janet is still looking good.

as always.

damnnit janet.

beautiful mistake + raymi + no blood no foul

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blind man stuck his nose into the bus today.

hey what number is this bus he asked us through the side door. the out door. the middle of the bus door.

we told him it was the old 720.

he was blind so he was looking at us with his left ear, crazy bloodshot eye looking up into the sky.

he accepted the information and allowed his german shepard to enter the vehicle.

cuz he was blind the busdriver didnt say shit about him going in through the out door.

the dog lead his way through the standing people to the front of the bus and the guy followed him, looking up at the roof of the bus. everyone got out of the way nicely. things got real quiet too.

even though there were 50-60 people in the bus, it was the blind man and his dog that everyone cared about. it was very odd. i hadnt seen that many people pay attention to two passengers since two swedish girls got on the 20 santa monica with beach bags last summer looking radiant and exotic.

one guy goes to the man and says excuse me.

i was all, oh no.

cuz the guy looks like a freak.

he goes, hey can you tell me about the braile institute?

the blind guy says excuse please?

the weirdo goes the braile institute on vermont and melrose, yeah, why is there a big sign on it that says braile institute? everyone who wants to go there cant see it.

some people laughed. not laughed really but smiled.

blind guy was smiling the whole time.

dog wasnt smiling.

busdriver kept looking in the rearview, he wasnt smiling

and after me and this big guy threw the weirdo out the side door at the next stop he wasnt smiling either.

the dog didnt bark once during the whole fracas.

jbanks + janelle + lick will launch superbowl sunday during halftime

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what will be the score of the super bowl?

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ghost band ghost band theres a ghost band, girl, playing our song yeah. drank beers and rum ate bowling alley shrimp fried rice and got to hang with an x xbi director which was a pleasant surprise because i always liked him and i was shocked when he had to turn in his flying car. its a strange planet we're rotating on he esped to me. but i kept thinking of rancid.

hot girl earlier in the day got shot standing right next to me. i dont talk about her much because we're undercover of course and if anyone saw a brotha with a fro and a super cute korean girl keeping it real one might get the impression that theyd seen us before in that neck of the woods and suddenly we wouldnt be so much undercover. but it looks like thats not going to be the case any more and it was mighty scary let me tell you.

on the way home from bowling tonight i stopped by the hospital and whispered little secrets into her ear. her hospital is very close to my house. after a while she told me that it hurt to laugh and asked me to stop.

hospitals are never the way you wish they were.

she said if you ever see me getting interviewed on the view, shoot me.

i said, if you ever see me getting interviewd on carson daly, carpet bomb me.

she said, if you ever see me wearing a hoop dress punch me in the nose

i said blink once if you want me to climb on top of you

she said if you get on top of me i will knee you in the family jewels.

i said what if i like my family jewels kneed

she said then climb on top

of me.

freak.

and fell asleep with that little smile going

and i stole the little chocolate from her dinner tray she had pushed away

snipped a bud from one of her many bouquets.

kissed her nose

for the first time

kissed her forhead

for the first time

undressed her with my eyes

for the tenth time

that day.

and whispered that it was

going to be ok.

d.lo + leah + <3 raspil <3

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The Replacements
Tim
Sire Records, 1986

"Bastards of Young"
(Westerberg)

God, what a mess, on the ladder of success
Where you take one step and miss the whole first rung
Dreams unfulfilled, graduate unskilled
And Pete's pickin' cotton and waitin' to be forgotten

We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
The daughters and the sons

Clean your baby's room, trash that baby boom
Elvis in the ground, there'll ain't no beer tonight
Income tax deduction, what a hell of a function
It beats pickin' cotton and waitin' to be forgotten

We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
The daughters and the sons... young

Willingness to claim us, ya got no morals to name us

The ones who love us best are the ones we'll lay to rest
And visit their graves on holidays at best
The ones who love us least are the ones we'll die to please
If it's any consolation, I don't begin to understand it

We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
The daughters and the sons

take a shower, take a shower, take a shower, take a shower

see thru skin + bob mould + aint no bad dude

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a lot of young people read this blog. i dont know why. who cares why. anyway, they do.

dear kids of america, and canaduh. learn how to play the damn guitar.

mars may need women but this planet needs rock.

i dont know what happened 10-15 years ago but i flip on my mtv2 and i see Simple Plan and Good Charlotte and i know why you kids are so damn uptight. hell, id be uptight if thats all Viacom was showing me back when i was comin up.

while youre learning to play guitar learn how to rock it. rock that fucking thing kids. are you listening to me? dont strum it like dave matthews. dont flick at it like john mayer, dont rest your arm on it like the strokes do.

rock that shit bitch.

then learn how to table dance, then learn how to take heroin, then learn how to appear in court (pictured).

and if you think im bullshitting youre nuts.

i need my rock stars to come back to me.

i need my fucked up twisted angry passionate poets and priestesses to hitch up their vintage skirts and return to the stage cuz this bullshit im seeing and listening to on the radio and mtv is bullshit.

courtney love, regardless of what you think of her, is 10 times the rock star of any of the pimply faced fuckups that i see on tv and thats not even debatable.

we live in dark, dull times, adolescents

learn how to play the rock music

listen to johnny cash

give mouth to mouth to the ghosts of punk rock past.

fuck snow + jeff mcmanus + everything is wrong

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it appears the only thing less appealing to americans than a democratic presidential nominee who knows how to pump up a house full of downtrodden campaign volunteers is to be a gay professional athlete.

which is why cleveland indian relief pitcher Kazuhito Tadano (pictured, far left) is trying to distance himself from his appearance in a xxx homosexual porno tape.

"All of us have made mistakes in our lives," Tadano told a group of cleveland reporters regarding an adult tape he made in college. "Hopefully, you learn from them and move on."

the 23 yr old swears that although he performed a homosexual act in the film, he is not gay.

regarless, the japanese pro leagues dont want him; and seeing that no MLB, NFL, NBA or NHL players are openly gay it looks as if this flamethrower, tadano might be screwedano.

the AP reports that none of the cleveland minor league teams that kasuhito played with cared that he had done his little film. openly. i find that refreshing.

if we're openminded enough to have a dipshit as president why cant the tribe have a closer who loves liza?

thats my only question.

even though i grew up in the sexually conservative (if not repressed) midwest, after last years playoff debacle by the Cubs i would bet that if this apologetic japanese pitcher could do for the cubs in the pros what he did for the indians in the minors last year (6-2 with a 1.55 ERA and three saves with three teams on three levels of the minors and in akron he didn't allow a run in his first 28 innings and struck out 78 in 72 2-3 innings) the bleacher bums would wave pink hankercheifs to root his uh, ass, on.

as they should.

homophobia in sports in 2004 is pretty gay.

perotheus + aarons baseball blog + lane

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dear best western,

i hear you will be offering free high speed internet wirelessly in all of your rooms starting this summer.

actually i read it on my pal matt welch's blog.

lots of people learn things from blogs.

thats why i would like to work for you and write a blog for you.

i would like to travel to all of your locations and write a little something about the facility and the town.

sorta like charles kuralt's on the road

but better.

minus the mistress.

for example if i worked for you, right now i would drive over to houston for the super bowl and blog, i mean write on your blog, about houston and the best westerns in the houston area.

i would take pictures.

i have a good camera.

i believe the blog that i could create with you could be one that would appeal to your 18-34 demographic, which i would imagine, would be your target market.

i have excellent references.

im a courteous guest who rarely steals towels

and i promise i wont fill my cooler with ice from the ice machine.

please hire me to write your blog.

your pal,

tony pierce

chokey chicken's favorite blogger + bad marriage + franny + k

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im having an amazingly long string of bad luck right now, fyi. youre gonna have your good days and bad days and good weeks and bad weeks. my last really bad week was in october when the cubs fell apart right as i was starting to believe. that led to some unfortunate situations at my place of employment. currently im getting dumped by hot chicks, losing my shirt at games of chance, and today i even lost my wallet.

whats most embarrassing about it was i was about to get some clothes at the hot topic.

cuz im so punk.

i had my eye on this baby blue simpsons pin pal bowling shirt with the name homer stitched in cursive over the pocket. and some pants. fifty five bucks out the door.

dug around my backpack. pimp was in there. a few really good r&b cds from the 40s were in there.

some chicks lip balm from nordstrom was in there somehow.

baseball cards, power bars, old bus passes, my blogger hoodie, my dumb cell phone,

but no wallet.

so i called my man john woo and asked him if he could look around chopper one for me, he did

nothin.

the girl put my shit on hold for a day.

i can see the stitched on picture of apu and the gang all stuffed in that black plastic bag waiting to be on my back tomorrow as we go to the valley to bowl, we being the xbi travelling bowling team.

lucky for me that i took a hundred bucks out of the atm this afternoon and stuffed it in my wallet right before i misplaced it into the universe.

nothin better than finding a wallet fat with greenbacks

and a condom that doesnt expire for a long time

and a barely used library card

and a buspass with four days left on it.

but the weirdest thing about all of this

is i couldnt give a shit for some reason.

it's nice.

it's even sorta funny.

jarrett + jason + moveon

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The new Tsar single got reviewed by the Village Voice today

TSAR
"Straight"/"The Creature in Disguise"
(Birdman)

Their pad is very messy, they got whiskers on their chin, they're gone on powerpop music, and they always play to win. Or so the A-side tries to convey, though these L.A. formalists clearly mean to beg the straightness question merely by raising it.

In their first songs to surface since their worthy 2000 debut album, they pound and swing the boogie harder and sweeter than ever; both tracks would fit real well on Cheap Trick's All Shook Up, so Tsar's guitars could offer quite the machismo lesson to Weezer, whose T-shirts their "Tsar the Rock Group" slogan recalls.

Even more blatant: quotes/references to "Pretty Vacant," "Bat Out of Hell," and "I'm Straight" by the Modern Lovers, who meant the word differently. Then, on an almost-as-flawless flip side alluding to adolescent bodies metamorphosing monster-like, "My Generation," the Move's Shazam, and B?C's "Godzilla." Or maybe the Dolls' "Frankenstein." Or Edgar Winter's.

Do the crossword puzzle yourself for once, bucko.

- Chuck Eddy, Village Voice, Singles Again, January 28 - February 3, 2004

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hot chick at work sits at the front of our office and isnt really a receptionist but she knows everything, so i tell her everything. usually about chicks. today i was telling her something and she said, oh, can you do me a favor and go through one day without talking about girls or women or sex or anything like that? ok. thanks.

she said it bitchy like that dude in office space. it was funny. whenever people try to be mean to me and are being sarcastic or whatever i just laugh. sometimes i will just go on doing what they ask me not to go on doing. its almost a dare to me.

then she said youre not even talking about the girl that i want you to talk about and i was all who do you want me to talk about and she said the girl on the top of your blog thing.

its always freaky when people from work read this because i pretend that nobody reads this and i dont have to pretend about that at work cuz pretty much nobody from work does read it. and i told her that me and karisa are friends and we're keeping it that way. plus shes the wrong sign, so hush. and she said well dont talk about girls today unless youre gonna talk about her. i like her. i said i like her too, but this other one this morning, whoa....

this chick is hot. theyre all hot. everything is hot in LA today except me and the weather. 51 degrees this morning and i know i have no room to bitch cuz the country is shivvering but excuse me, LA should not be 51 degrees in january. it should be 71. didnt we discuss this recently when it wasnt 80?

took the escalator down the platform to the subway this morning and i saw a guy in a huge lakers parka sleeping on the slat where people usually sit. they make them hard and uncomfortable on purpose so as to keep people from sleeping on them and i thought about how when i was at uc isla vista they told us that we didnt know what real life was that we would get out of the fantasy land of santa barbara soon and the sooner the better and when i saw that guy this morning i was thinking fuck the real world. send me back to fantasy land.

and then i sat next to my sleeping los angelino and opened my book to where my m&ms wrapper was holding my place and continued reading pimp by iceberg slim.

bettiegirl + jackbog + kitty bukakke

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did you miss me. i missed you. then why do i feel like not writing any more for a long long time. i think the world is doing one of those lets see if we can spin completely upside down right now. the pope witnessed breakdancing, clint got on stage and said i know i dont look like sean penn... but i am, and the hot babe in average joe made out with the good looking guy who didnt even know what a romance novel is.

i put up the first few pages of lick today and parts of it make me very very happy and parts scare the shit out of me. my natural reaction is to just say fuckit and not do it but i did that with blook 2 and some people wanted my ass. there was this study a while back about perfectionists and winners and most winners it turned out were not perfectionists and the study was done on quarterbacks in the nfl and many of them won because they werent afraid to fuck up, they just went for it, warts and all, they didnt allow the little (or big) things stop them from going forward.

and when you look at guys like our current president (not pictured, sadly) who if he was any other decent person would look at the state the planet was in when he stole the election and look at the state of the planet today, and the decent person would probably apologize and step down gracefully. a perfectionist woulda probably shot hisself right in the head. but winners, and i hate to say it, but dumbshit sure does find a way to win, winners hang in there and keep slugging away even if the only person who benefits from their bs is them.

so lick will launch at halftime of the superbowl for your asses, as planned. even if it isnt exactly what i want it to be.

how could it be more like i want it to be? you could write for it, for starters. and by you, i mean you.

you know who you are.

work wasnt so bad but i wasnt feeling it all day. im not sick, i can feel the disturbance in the force, maybe tomorrow we'll figure out what it is, was, whatever, but my truest called tonight and she told me to go for it, clipper girls cousin called tonight and told me to go for it, and raspil iverson the designer of the lick blog wrote something so normal and so perfect for lick and i put it on the page and it didnt look perfect but it will do for today but it was the writing.

sometimes its nice just to read normal words from a normal person about normal things

and thats better than people trying to be all flowery and writer-y or any of that.

she told the story and got out of the way and it was great.

and if theres one thing i want to do from lick is help people understand that theres lots of ways to write well and the best way is their way as cheesy as that sounds its the truth and another thing i want people to learn is that even though we call it a world wide web, we are completely separated in most cases. and now is the time to have a greater cohesiveness if we want.

its like a playground with a thousand basketballs and a thousand hoops and everyone is shooting freethrows,

my invitation to you is to play together

just a few times a month.

ladies first.

women of the web, if you'd like to write something for lick, now is the time. wednesday at 10pm pacific time is the deadline for the first edition of this new thing. if i didnt contact you personally please dont be put off, i contacted very few people personally. i wanted Lick to be something mostly wordofmouth like buzznet and friendster and that super visual x that was going around last weekend in hollywood.

you can fictionalize things, you can factualize things, you can write about things that youd never think youd ever write down let alone email to someone, and you can also write about normal things that interest you.

whatever you do, write. write like its ok to write. write like todays the day and if you want write like whatever it is that you write will touch someone, even an undercover vigilante helicopter pilot who secretly just wants to direct.

porn.

i love you faceless rockstars of the worldwideweb. im glad to be back and if anything inside my head whispers to me that i should stop i will just think about my hero ray rayner who was there for me every morning growing up.

the mc has a new cam + this girl turns me on + i love brians video

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